annyeong,
Goodbye, Luhan. Hello, Lu Han.
Goodbye, Luhan. Hello, Lu Han.
I remember seeing you for the first time – in the Time Control teaser in which you danced with Kai – and thinking to
myself, “Wow. I think I’m a goner.” And gosh, I really was…I still am. It’s been almost three years since then, and I won’t
say that it’s been a breeze of a ride, but I’d shout to the seas and stars that it’s been worth it. You’ve been worth it and
you always will be
.
Goodbye, Luhan. Hello, Lu Han.
I remember seeing you for the first time – in the Time Control teaser in which you danced with Kai – and thinking to
myself, “Wow. I think I’m a goner.” And gosh, I really was…I still am. It’s been almost three years since then, and I won’t
say that it’s been a breeze of a ride, but I’d shout to the seas and stars that it’s been worth it. You’ve been worth it and
you always will be
.
I have never found the need to write a long message for you. I was simply satisfied with keyboard smashing about your
face, your personality and the things you’ve said and done; there was an extraordinary joy about that.
Six years ago, you left Bejing – the city that you are so proud of – and you were filled with so much hope for the future
.
The clouds hung brightly above, like your dreams and expectations for a new language, a new culture and a new
world. You said “goodbye” to your family and friends, and I have no way of knowing if you cried, if they did, or if you
were giddy with joy – you knew you’d miss them, miss Beijing, that’s for sure, you just didn’t know how much. Did you
board your flight alone? Did you take deep breaths, remind yourself repeatedly as an unfamiliar voice announced that
the plane was taking flight in ten minutes, that the clouds were the dreams you were flying towards? Did you stare out
of the window at them or did you pop a couple of pills to calm your heart and go to sleep? I have no way of knowing,
but I’d like to think that you must have been so happy, so hopeful then
.
Four years ago, you were wandering aimlessly on the streets of Myeongdong. It was just another day of studying and
pining after dreams that were fading – the clouds were shrivelling like cotton candy when left out in the open, going
stale. It was your lucky day. Perhaps even now, you are thinking to yourself that it was one of the luckiest days of your
life. You were scouted and told to show them what you’ve got, and you did. You showed them. You were made of atoms
but they knew, even then, that you could be the most radiant star. Following that, you plunged straight into days of
training, training and more training. Heat and pressure built up. Stories were written and friends were made, sweat
and tears wet your shirts and your pillow, and as your dreams eventually – despite all the uncertainties and all the
obstacles that you overcame but not without cuts and bruises – came closer and closer, well within reach, the stars
moved into your eyes and decided to stay for good. You were the destiny they had decided to believe in – you still are.
Life as a trainee wasn’t easy. It never was, not for you and definitely not for the others. You survived that, and off you
go, accompanied by eleven others who shared same (yet different) dreams
.
Showcase…performances…variety shows…
Screams of “Luhan!” reached your ears, filled your head. Everywhere you went, they followed. There were times when
these shouts weren’t as welcoming as they had intended to be, quite a few things were different from how you’d
imagined, but you were grateful all the same. To be standing on the biggest stages, performing for the biggest crowds,
living the biggest dreams – so big they pushed against your ribs, chased the beat of your heart, and made it just a little
too hard for you to catch your breath. Times like those, you missed home more than usual. “I’d work hard,” you
promised, every time without fail you would do so.
“Of course I miss home, of course I miss them…but what else can I do? I can only keep missing them.”
For the past three years, you spent more time battling nightmares – falling into a bottomless pit, further and further
from the clouds - and ignoring the pain thumping behind your eyes. The pills weren’t bitter, but all the criticisms, all the
negativity, those tasted bitter and the taste wouldn’t leave your mouth no matter what you said, no matter how much
water you gulped down along with the sheer anxiety and fear before each flight. There were times of comfort. Laughing
at the most ridiculous jokes Yixing would crack at the most inappropriate times, making faces at Junmyeon when he
admits to liking the idea of you cross-dressing – too pretty, and that yellow ocean given to you by the ones who loved –
still do – you so. But other times, the bitterness, pain and exhaustion stayed.
You tried hiding the discomfort you felt as nutrition drips made their way under your skin, thick and sickening, so close
to reaching the marrows of your bones. You needed more rest, even you knew that, but all that you could do was to keep
popping those pills, get on the van, and keep going. You kept telling yourself, “I’m doing this for my dreams. It’s worth
it.”
I can’t possibly list all the things I love about you:
Like the sheer panic on your face when you were asked if you’ve dated anyone before. A deer caught in the headlights,
you rocked back and forth on your seat and in the end, admitted to have given her a peck on her cheek in an empty
classroom.
Like the Showtime episode during which you went back into the haunted house to find a fellow member.
Like the triumphant look on your face every time you’ve scored a goal, happiness coursing through your veins.
Like the way you exchanged dreaded looks with Minseok when the big screen showed the scene you two acted. Hiding
your face in adorable shyness.
Like the way you’d practice before a performance, even if you weren’t handed a microphone.
Like the way you’d shout at the airport security not to hurt the fans who had gone there to welcome you, to catch of a
glimpse of you, the one they loved – still do – the most.
Like the way you said you wanted to bring your fellow members to Beijing – to show them the place where you were
born and raised, the place you are so damn proud of.
Like the way the stars shone all the brighter when your eyes are filled too with unshed tears. Kept blinking,
because…”Because well, I’m a man.”
Indeed.
Your shoulders aren’t the widest, but they bear a near impossible weight. You aren’t the tallest, but all you have to do is
to tip-toe ever so slightly and you can reach the skies – the sun and the stars, all yours. Your hands aren’t the biggest,
but they are warm, and they never let go of the memories you are so fond of.
I want to keep writing this letter. I want to write many letters and send them all to you, but sometimes, just like this – a
simple, sincere piece of my heart embedded in these words – letting others know just who the person who has completely
won me over is, it’s enough. It’s more than enough. There are so many things unsaid, so many things I want to say, but
I’m afraid that for now, I’d lock them between this heartbeat and the next.
Thank you. For all that you have done and for all that you will do.
I’m sorry. Don’t say that anymore. Never apologize for burning too brightly or for falling back on your most vulnerable
self every night – that is how galaxies are made.
Get well soon. For the ones who love you, for the ones you love, and most importantly, for yourself.
face, your personality and the things you’ve said and done; there was an extraordinary joy about that.
Six years ago, you left Bejing – the city that you are so proud of – and you were filled with so much hope for the future
.
The clouds hung brightly above, like your dreams and expectations for a new language, a new culture and a new
world. You said “goodbye” to your family and friends, and I have no way of knowing if you cried, if they did, or if you
were giddy with joy – you knew you’d miss them, miss Beijing, that’s for sure, you just didn’t know how much. Did you
board your flight alone? Did you take deep breaths, remind yourself repeatedly as an unfamiliar voice announced that
the plane was taking flight in ten minutes, that the clouds were the dreams you were flying towards? Did you stare out
of the window at them or did you pop a couple of pills to calm your heart and go to sleep? I have no way of knowing,
but I’d like to think that you must have been so happy, so hopeful then
.
Four years ago, you were wandering aimlessly on the streets of Myeongdong. It was just another day of studying and
pining after dreams that were fading – the clouds were shrivelling like cotton candy when left out in the open, going
stale. It was your lucky day. Perhaps even now, you are thinking to yourself that it was one of the luckiest days of your
life. You were scouted and told to show them what you’ve got, and you did. You showed them. You were made of atoms
but they knew, even then, that you could be the most radiant star. Following that, you plunged straight into days of
training, training and more training. Heat and pressure built up. Stories were written and friends were made, sweat
and tears wet your shirts and your pillow, and as your dreams eventually – despite all the uncertainties and all the
obstacles that you overcame but not without cuts and bruises – came closer and closer, well within reach, the stars
moved into your eyes and decided to stay for good. You were the destiny they had decided to believe in – you still are.
Life as a trainee wasn’t easy. It never was, not for you and definitely not for the others. You survived that, and off you
go, accompanied by eleven others who shared same (yet different) dreams
.
Showcase…performances…variety shows…
Screams of “Luhan!” reached your ears, filled your head. Everywhere you went, they followed. There were times when
these shouts weren’t as welcoming as they had intended to be, quite a few things were different from how you’d
imagined, but you were grateful all the same. To be standing on the biggest stages, performing for the biggest crowds,
living the biggest dreams – so big they pushed against your ribs, chased the beat of your heart, and made it just a little
too hard for you to catch your breath. Times like those, you missed home more than usual. “I’d work hard,” you
promised, every time without fail you would do so.
“Of course I miss home, of course I miss them…but what else can I do? I can only keep missing them.”
For the past three years, you spent more time battling nightmares – falling into a bottomless pit, further and further
from the clouds - and ignoring the pain thumping behind your eyes. The pills weren’t bitter, but all the criticisms, all the
negativity, those tasted bitter and the taste wouldn’t leave your mouth no matter what you said, no matter how much
water you gulped down along with the sheer anxiety and fear before each flight. There were times of comfort. Laughing
at the most ridiculous jokes Yixing would crack at the most inappropriate times, making faces at Junmyeon when he
admits to liking the idea of you cross-dressing – too pretty, and that yellow ocean given to you by the ones who loved –
still do – you so. But other times, the bitterness, pain and exhaustion stayed.
You tried hiding the discomfort you felt as nutrition drips made their way under your skin, thick and sickening, so close
to reaching the marrows of your bones. You needed more rest, even you knew that, but all that you could do was to keep
popping those pills, get on the van, and keep going. You kept telling yourself, “I’m doing this for my dreams. It’s worth
it.”
I can’t possibly list all the things I love about you:
Like the sheer panic on your face when you were asked if you’ve dated anyone before. A deer caught in the headlights,
you rocked back and forth on your seat and in the end, admitted to have given her a peck on her cheek in an empty
classroom.
Like the Showtime episode during which you went back into the haunted house to find a fellow member.
Like the triumphant look on your face every time you’ve scored a goal, happiness coursing through your veins.
Like the way you exchanged dreaded looks with Minseok when the big screen showed the scene you two acted. Hiding
your face in adorable shyness.
Like the way you’d practice before a performance, even if you weren’t handed a microphone.
Like the way you’d shout at the airport security not to hurt the fans who had gone there to welcome you, to catch of a
glimpse of you, the one they loved – still do – the most.
Like the way you said you wanted to bring your fellow members to Beijing – to show them the place where you were
born and raised, the place you are so damn proud of.
Like the way the stars shone all the brighter when your eyes are filled too with unshed tears. Kept blinking,
because…”Because well, I’m a man.”
Indeed.
Your shoulders aren’t the widest, but they bear a near impossible weight. You aren’t the tallest, but all you have to do is
to tip-toe ever so slightly and you can reach the skies – the sun and the stars, all yours. Your hands aren’t the biggest,
but they are warm, and they never let go of the memories you are so fond of.
I want to keep writing this letter. I want to write many letters and send them all to you, but sometimes, just like this – a
simple, sincere piece of my heart embedded in these words – letting others know just who the person who has completely
won me over is, it’s enough. It’s more than enough. There are so many things unsaid, so many things I want to say, but
I’m afraid that for now, I’d lock them between this heartbeat and the next.
Thank you. For all that you have done and for all that you will do.
I’m sorry. Don’t say that anymore. Never apologize for burning too brightly or for falling back on your most vulnerable
self every night – that is how galaxies are made.
Get well soon. For the ones who love you, for the ones you love, and most importantly, for yourself.
I love you
Always.
..
from his last perfomance as exo, we know that leaving exo is not his second choice...he either has no choice...
#sorryformybrokenbi
